Angels at the Opera
by MommaDintRaiseQuittersNeither
Summary: The Angels are off to Moscow and beyond to solve a mystery at the National Opera of Moscow.
1. Chapter 1

Agafia Ayushiyev was so nervous. She was waiting for her entrance to go on stage. It was her first performance with the National Opera of Moscow. She didn't know how Andrei would react. He didn't know she was performing today.

She gasped as his familiar voice was heard echoing down the hallway, and her skin crawled. He was coming. She had to get away. The only way she could go was onstage. She fumbled out onto the stage of the Bolshoi opera house. The stage lights blinded her. She heard the far off orchestra. She saw her friend Afanasiia singing in the middle of the stage, what seemed like miles away from her. She looked back into the wings and saw the furious face of Andrei. She heard the collective gasps of the audience, and their fingers that all pointed up. She looked up and saw a huge light fixture falling down, towards her. Falling...falling... She looked back at Andrei, a knife in his hand, and a grin on his face. Everything went black.

The strong rays of sunlight streaming through the office window, combined with the annoying buzzing fly were liable to drive Sabrina insane. Thankfully then Bosley got up to draw the blinds closed, and the hum of the projector clicked on.

"Good morning Angels."

"Good morning Charlie," resonated though the office as Sabrina, Kelly, and Jill each answered out of unison to their boss, whose voice could be heard over the loudspeaker.

"Angels, this is a picture of Agafia Ayushiyev, a singer at the National Opera of Moscow."

A pretty young girl with black hair and sharp, angled features appeared on the screen. She was not smiling.

"She was and up and coming star, and her first performance was supposed to be on Sunday."

"Supposed to?" Sabrina's voice cracked.

"Yes, but there were certain complications; for some reason she ran out onto stage far before her entrance and a light fixture fell on her. Regretfully, after several days in a local hospital in Moscow, she died."

"That's awful!" Kelly shook her head, disapproving.

"Right you are, Kelly. That's why our job is to find out who caused that light fixture to fall on her. The only things we have to go on are that the rope was cut, and there was some bad blood between Agafia and the man who organizes the companies' tours, a certain Andrei Ankundinov. Other girls in the Opera were interviewed by my friend who flew out to Moscow to question them. They said that they had seen Agafia burst out of Andrei's office one night in tears. They then heard Andrei place a call and tell someone to 'follow her and be ready'".

"This Andrei doesn't sound very pleasant," Jill had a disgusted look on her face.

Kelly looked up, and with a shake of her head said "No. No he doesn't."

"Anyway Angels, the only way we can find out anymore is to be there in person. Angels, you're going to Moscow."

There were collective gasps around the room.

"But," Sabrina chuckled, disbelieving, "that's on the other side of the world!"

"Yes, I admit it is very far away, but there's nothing to be done. Jill, you are going there as a journalist who is interviewing singers about their up-and-coming tour, Sabrina you will be a business woman interested in buying the National Opera of Moscow (as Andrei helps to deal with company issues as well as arranging tours) and lastly Kelly, you will be an aspiring opera singer. I have arranged voice lessons for you already." A sharp click was heard several seconds after, right before any of the angels could protest.

"Wh-"

"Charlie!"

"H—"

"Oh girls it's no use!" Bosley said with glee. "You're going to Russia, and I just happen to not be," he chuckled. "Well, you should go get packed."

Whirling snowflakes rushed past the airplane window, as Jill stared out. Far, far below all she could was white snow-covered land stretching for miles and miles. All of the angels were cramped from the long flight. They had had a layover in Ukraine, but they were aching and the waiting was getting mind-numbingly boring.

"Passengers, please fasten your seatbelts. We are about to descend."

"Finally," Kelly was none too pleased about their 13 hour flight.

"We better get our winter gear on," Sabrina said dubiously.

By the time they were done, all three angelscould have passed for Eskimos. They wore thick coats with fur-rimmed collars, and sturdy, waterproof boots.

Minutes later, they stepped out into the snow. It was coming down so fast now, that it was hard to make out the taxi cabs waiting for them.

They each got into their separate cabs, because they were not supposed to be arriving together. They started driving away from the airport, and there they were; each alone in Russia.


	2. A Missing Link at the Skating Rink

**Thanks for the support Heather! If you're enjoying please review **

**-Author**

**...**

_Chapter 2: A missing link at the ice skating rink_

Kelly slowly walked into the broken down lobby of the vocal coach's office. She was dreading this visit. She wouldn't say her voice was terrible or even simply okay, her voice was good; but Opera? No.

Just then a craggily old lady of 80 or 90 came wincing down the stairs and spoke with an Italian accent, "How ya doin honey? A hear-a Charlie wants you to get a nice-a pretty voice? Ramona can do-a that!" She then finished her sentence with a smile that looked like quite a lot of effort was put into it.

"Hi Ramona, nice to meet you; I'm Kelly Nelson," Kelly said under her assumed name. Several beets of silence passed with the old lady just blinking daftly at the private detective. Kelly finally broke the silence with "umm...okay, when do we start?"

"Right-a now," the old lady said, with a full-hearted chuckle that flushed her face.

Kelly followed her up the stairs, very apprehensive of the two hours to come.

...

The snow was coming down hard, the cold air freezing Sabrina's face. She knocked on the back door of the Bolshoi Opera house. The Opera was scheduled to perform In Moscow for only two more weeks, after that it was travelling to Paris. Several minutes later, she heard someone shouting in Russian; promptly after the door opened a crack.

"Hello, my name's Sabrina Winchester; I'm here to discuss business with the director of the company."

The man who had answered the door had a very confused look on his face.

"Oh that's right! You don't speak Engl-I'll just...I thought...never mind." She mimed talking with her hand, and eventually he got the picture. He gestured her inside out of the snow, into a nearly-deserted hallway, and said something in Russian to the only man that was nearby. The man turned to Sabrina.

"How can I help you?"

"Oh you speak English! I'm here to talk to the director of the company. Do you know his name?"

"I am who you seek. My name is Vladimir Gibazov."

"Very nice to meet you, might we step into your office and discuss some—"

"No! All discussions are to be done right here."

Sabrina was taken aback at his abruptness. Finally she managed to speak."In the hall? Well that doesn't seem very professional."

"Well I am sorry if your hopes of me being professional are not up to standard, I have—" he looked at his watch "—two minutes for you to be talking. It starts...now," he shouted as he tapped his watch.

"O-okay, um...well I am interested in buying the company—"

His face did a small twitch. "Are you? Well I'm sure you are. Will you wait here one second?" He looked at the man who had opened the door and said something in Russian, indicating it was about Sabrina with a jerk if his head in her direction. He then stalked off shouting "Andrei!" over and over again, evidently very angry. She looked at the man standing with her, who was now leering at her. She had the feeling that something had gone very wrong.

...

Jill had a large amount of time on her hands. Kelly and Sabrina had both gotten interesting covers, while she got the routine journalist position. She looked out of the hotel snow-covered window with a sigh, and to her delight she saw a huge, outdoor ice skating rink in a little town square.

"Why not?" She thought to herself. She had time to kill. She grabbed her jacket and headed out of the door.

...

Minutes and minutes had gone by, the man still leering at her. Sabrina had tried just leaving, but the man had grabbed her by the arm and shaken his head, smiling. She had thought about holding him at gun point while she escaped, but Charlie had given her a job to do. Vladimir Gibazov would not take her seriously for buying the Opera if she just left. No. She would stay and take whatever came, just as she usually did.

Just then she saw Vladimir coming down the hall along with a short wily man of about 5'6'' with raven black hair, who had a scowl on his face.

Vladimir nodded to the man who had been leering at her.

Bri hesitated, but finally said to the newcomer in the hope that he would speak English "Hello, my name—"

Vladimir rushed towards her, throwing her long and lanky frame over his head. The wind was knocked out of her as she was thrown over his shoulder.

"Hey, wait a minute! What's going on here?" She could hear Opera in the distance. It was no use. No one would hear her over the singing. She would try anyway. Her screams of "Help!" echoed down the hall, and then the alleyway as she was shoved into the trunk of a black sedan, gagged, and tied up.

...

Kelly flopped onto the bouncy bed of the Russian hotel. "Is it just this hotel, or are all Russian hotel beds comfier than American hotel beds?" she thought to herself. She still had to check up with Jill and Bri. She called both of their rooms, Bri's above, Jill's below. No answer. Huh. It was almost dark.

"Oh well," she thought. Those two hours of Opera lessons with the old woman whose name had turned out to be Ramona Donatella, had been awful and exhausting. She old lady got grumpy and irritable whenever Kelly couldn't hit a note right.

Kelly flopped down onto the comfortable bed and dozed off.

...

Jill had been ice skating so long that her feet were hurting, but she had to admit, she was enjoying herself.

"I should probably get home," she thought. "It's almost dark, and Kelly and Sabrina might be worrying."

Just then an employee skated towards her. "Jill Phillips?" Charlie had wanted all three angels to use fake identities while in Russia.

She nodded, as she wasn't sure if he spoke Russian or not. He handed her a phone.

A man's voice spoke in a muffled way, "We have your friend, Sabrina." Jill took a sharp intake of breath. "If you want her back alive, then you and your fake Opera singing friend will come with the National Opera of Moscow to France in two weeks. I will call you there and tell you what to do. If you do not, your friend is as good as dead. Talk to you in two weeks." There was a sharp click.

She skated over to the edge of the rink, and unlaced her skates as quickly as she could. Inconspicuously she slipped the phone into her purse, and ran across the street to the hotel.

...

Kelly heard a quick, frantic knock that startled her awake. She got up and looked through the peep hole. It was Jill, panting.

She unlocked the door and slid out the chain. Jill burst in.

"Sabr—"She took a deep breath, "They have her—got a call—kidnapped—Paris."

"Whoa, slow down! Sabrina was kidnapped? By who?"

Jill told Kelly all about the call.

"We have two weeks to find Sabrina and solve this mystery before the Opera travels hundreds of miles to France? Just our luck," Kelly flopped onto the bed with a sigh.

"I have the phone that the man called on, though. Is there any way we could run it through a machine to get a voice report?" Jill looked doubtful as she said this.

"Actually, I think there is," Kelly said.

...


End file.
